Page 65 of Playing for the Hat Trick
“Yep.” I pop the ‘p’ like I’m not one minor anxiety tremor away from disintegrating. “Now I think I might’ve agreed to the best-worst idea of my adult life.”
“ And now you’re . . . spiraling.”
“Spiraling with pastry,” I correct, holding up the scone bag. “It softens the impact.”
Hailey leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You do understand this has consequences, right?” she asks.
“I’ll use protection, promise,” I state because that should help with the consequences.
She shakes her head and points at her baby. “No, I don’t mean those kinds of cute consequences. I meant . . . he’s Leif’s best friend. He’s a family friend, Scottie. You can’t think this is just going to be casual.”
“Oh, it totally is casual,” I reassure her.
“Do you want to only sleep with him?”
I open my mouth, then close it.
Then open it again and whisper, “Even if I did, there’s no way he’d ever reciprocate. He’s already made that abundantly clear.”
“So you do have feelings for him.”
“I don’t have feelings,” I squeak, which is weird because I only do that when I’m lying, but this time I’m so not lying. I feel nothing for that man. Okay, there’s attraction, and I so want to fuck him, but that’s it.
“You want more,” she states, invalidating what I just told her.
“I don’t want more,” I say, then promptly ruin it with, “I just want to fuck him until I’m thoroughly satisfied.”
Hailey lifts her drink and sips, shaking her head like she’s seen this story before, and it didn’t end with quiet orgasms and emotional boundaries.
“So are we sure you want to have sex with your best friend’s brother—who is also your client—and is currently being offereda personalized physical therapy plan with full-body release included?”
“Don’t phrase it like that,” I mutter, dragging a hand over my face. “You make it sound like I run a sex spa with resistance bands.”
“I mean, I’ve heard you’re pretty strong with manual therapy.”
“Hailey.”
She softens. “Sorry. It’s just . . . wow. That’s a lot. You and Jason?”
“It’s not like it came out of nowhere.” I exhale. “We’ve always had this . . . thing. Since prom. Then again, at the Olympics. God, the fucking Olympics! I thought I was over him after he ghosted me like that. And now it’s like—I’m not even sure how it started. One second, we were arguing about quad activation and the next, he’s sexting me like I’m the reason his knee can’t bend anymore.”
Hailey chokes on her sip. “Please tell me you didn’t say that out loud.”
“I didn’t. Yet.”
She quiets again, giving me the space to catch my breath. And I appreciate it—because beneath the humor and the mental images I really shouldn’t be having, there’s the part of this I haven’t said yet.
“I’m scared,” I admit.
Hailey’s eyes meet mine. Calm. Steady. No judgment. “Of what?”
“Of ruining something I can’t take back.”
“You mean your license?”
“Well, yeah, there’s that, but also, there’s Leif.”
She shifts, setting her cup aside, all humor evaporating. “They’re big boys. Other than breaking his other knee, nothing bad would happen.”
